


Queen Britta the Cursed

by QueenyB



Category: Dwight in Shining Armor (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Reunions, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-12-13 23:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenyB/pseuds/QueenyB
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a strong warrior queen who, after giving birth to a daughter, was cursed to be an oak tree. Centuries later, she is released from her enchantment and wants to reunite with her daughter, who is now a bright teenager in a strange world. {On Hiatus until after New Years. Happy 2020!}





	1. Prologue

"Rockabye baby in the treetops," the soft voice of the queen hummed through the air as she rocked in a creaky wooden chair. She tapped her foot softly in time with the rhythm of the chair. "When the wind blows, the cradle will rock."

Britta smoothed the dark blonde curls of her baby girl as the infant suckled lightly, half-asleep. 

"And when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall…" She grimaced, she hated that line. She wanted to think of a more soothing, but she hadn't thought of a good alternative yet. 

Baby Gretta's mouth hung open and she snored softly with her little baby nose. Britta smiled happily and shifted the baby. She carried her across the room to a silver bassinet and laid her down, rubbing her head softly as she continued to sing the lullaby. Once Britta was sure the baby was asleep, she adjusted her clothing and shut the door softly behind her.

She nudged the wet nurse to wake her from a short nap and continued down the tower stairs. She wandered through the halls slowly, enjoying the late evening quiet. Eventually, she emerged in the garden and sat on a bench in a well-tended grove of maple trees and exotic flowers. The leaves of the trees were various shades of red and orange, though few had fallen to the ground just yet. Autumn was coming in full force this year, she could feel it. The queen sighed, content. 

"My my, what a pity. The queen alone without her guard dog," a chilling voice echoed through the night. 

Britta jumped to her feet and pulled her dress through her belt in a swift, practiced motion, allowing her more mobility of she needed it. 

"Who goes there?" she ordered. 

The shadows wavered as a being stepped through them and into the garden. He was tall and thin, with silver hair and a youthful face, though he was anything but human. He could be handsome, if not for the cruel, sadistic glint in his coal-black eyes. 

"Tis I," he replied with a flourish. "It's good to see you, your highness. It has been oh so long." 

Britta ground her teeth. "Dror, what are you doing here?"

"Collecting payment of course." He stepped closer, nearly towering over her. "You have to settle up before you get your happily ever after, you know."

Britta nearly scoffed at the idea of _ happily ever after _. Her husband had been devoured by fairies months ago. Her daughter was all she had left. "What is your price?" she replied. 

Dror grinned, revealing a set of unsettling, sharp teeth. "I want… her freedom." 

Britta tilted her head quietly. "I don't understand." 

"Your daughter. I want sixteen years of her freedom." 

The queen crossed her arms defiantly. "No. Pick something else." 

Dror reached forward and attempted to stroke Britta's chocolate-colored hair. She backed away and glared at him, silently demanding a reply. 

He sighed and placed his hands behind his back. “It’s truly a shame that a woman as beautiful as yourself would be a widow with a child at such an early age.” 

Britta stared at him blankly.

Dror sighed. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I just want freedom. It’s either hers or yours, and it’s more convenient to take it from little Gretta. It's not uncommon for young princesses to be kept away from society, you know. No one will think anything of it." 

"You're mad," Britta responded. 

He tutted. "Oh, no. I'm a businessman, your highness."

“I won’t let you take away her freedom.”

“She won’t even notice that it’s gone. The sixteen years will fly by, then it will be back and she can live a merry life of parties and horse-riding.” 

The queen clenched her fists in a vain attempt to prevent her hands from shaking. “Are you sure I can’t give you anything else? Money? Food? My freedom instead?” 

The man shook his head. “Taking your freedom would doom your people, your highness. I’m trying to be kind here.” 

Britta sighed deeply. “I-I can’t do that to Gretta.” 

Dror cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” 

Britta closed her eyes and took a deep, steady breath. When she opened them again, her eyes blazed with a golden fire as she unsheathed a bronze dagger beset with a dozen rubies. A spell fell from her lips and flames licked the dagger’s blade. She arched it through the night air, releasing a crescent of fire at her enemy. 

Unflustered, Dror leaped through the air and landed behind the queen. Exasperated, he began to chant a spell in an ancient, extinct language that Britta had never heard before. 

A sharp crack echoed through the air and a bolt of white lightning hit Queen Britta square in the chest. She screamed, but as the smoke cleared, the queen was gone and her voice was an echo in the wind. The place where she had been standing grew a large oak tree with golden leaves. 

Dror clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers. He grinned, assuming his work was done for the evening and thinking of heading off to the nearest pub for a pint. 

Suddenly, the door behind him crashed open and a barrel-chested sorcerer with a bushy beard and an amber staff raced through followed quickly by a thin witch with long black hair. 

"You!” the sorcerer yelled. He and the witch angled themselves between Dror and the oak. “What have you done?” 

Dror rolled his eyes. “I’ve simply collected my payment.” He glanced at the tree. “She ought to turn back into a woman in sixteen years or so.” 

The sorcerer geared up to launch a spell at Dror, but the witch placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. She glared at Dror so intensely that he was glad humans, even witches, couldn’t shoot beams of ice from their eyes. 

“What was Britta’s wish?” she asked. 

Dror twisted the shadows around his fingers, preparing to open a portal behind him. “She wished to have a safe delivery,” he answered. “Best protect that daughter of hers.” He pulled the shadows around him and disappeared, never to be seen again.

Alone in the garden, the sorcerer fell to his knees and began to lament loudly, waking the gardners and causing the guards to come running. Before long, everyone in the castle had discovered the truth of Queen Britta and dubbed her The Cursed. 


	2. Happy Birthday

The autumn air was crisp and froze Britta’s fingertips as she lifted clumps of dirt and leaves from the ground and mashed them between her hands. She felt the mud wedge between her fingernails and grinned giddily. It had been centuries since she had felt much of anything. The young queen took a deep breath of crisp air and enjoyed the burn as it entered her lungs. 

She looked at the cloudless sky with clear green eyes and screamed with unbridled joy. “Happy birthday, Gretta!” 

#

Dwight walked slowly down Main Street, flipping through the contacts on his phone. He had messaged everyone he knew in Woodside, and a few outside it, but no one was interested in attending the surprise party he was planning for Gretta. 

“Looks like it’s going to be the regular crew,” he mumbled to himself. He thought of Baldric and Chlodwig, whom he felt sure would not be able to keep the party a secret, even if he had told them about it. Nana was already helping him by baking the cake and preparing some simple decorations, and Hexcela had agreed to attend. And, other than Gretta’s aunt Ermie, who was traveling with her husband, he was out of people to invite. 

The boy sighed and slipped his phone into his pocket as he entered a vintage clothing store on the corner. If Dwight couldn’t get people to come to Gretta’s very first birthday party, then he was going to get her an awesome gift. Maybe he could find a decent knife or a pretty shirt. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but he was sure that the perfect present would hit him when he saw it. 

The store was actually quite big for a moderately-sized town like Woodside. Dwight started in the women’s clothing section and shifted through racks of clothing from the sixties and seventies, all probably purchased from children or grandchildren of people who had lived through those decades in their prime. He moved through the store slowly, attempting to look at everything, just in case. Once, the store clerk tried to help him, but he politely dismissed her and resumed his pilgrimage. 

Suddenly, he spotted it. Hidden in the jewelry case behind a hand mirror and lace gloves was a silver pendant. A circle hung from a long chain, a tree growing from it with winding branches and dotted with round leaves. It was perfect. 

#

Britta wandered through the town easily. She had heard travelers talk beneath her branches about the shops and the technology, but seeing it with her own eyes was astounding. The buildings were far bigger than she had imagined, and the people carried devices that she couldn’t even dream about. 

It was a simple matter to find Gretta’s home, though she was surprised by the appearance and location. Positioned on the corner, the modern house had been roughly transformed into a medieval castle, complete with a rudimentary moat and a hand-built lookout tower. Britta smiled before crossing the plank that served as a bridge and approaching the door. 

A young woman opened the door. She was a little taller than Britta and had beautiful, curly brown hair and bright green eyes. Britta choked up and smiled sweetly at the girl through burgeoning tears. 

“Hello. You must be Gretta. I’m… I’m Britta, your mother.” 

The princess abruptly slammed the door in her face. Britta blinked a few times, surprised by the action. She had thought her daughter more stout-hearted than that. Then, almost as suddenly, the door opened again, this time revealing a portly old man in a grey cloak. His big brown eyes grew and filled with heavy tears as he stared at his old friend. 

“Queen Britta,” Baldric choked. “Welcome home.” 

The queen wiped her cheek and grinned. “I’m home.” 

#

Gretta’s body was vibrating. Her chest was buzzing with the force of a thousand bees and her hands twisted around each other aimlessly. Her breathing was deep and erratic like she couldn’t remember how to do it properly. 

She had locked herself outside while Baldric dealt with the lady at the door. Though, she was certain that the woman was exactly who she claimed to be. Her eyes and facial structure was exactly like Gretta’s own. Truthfully, it was like looking into a mirror. 

“Hey, Gretta, you back here?” Dwight called, walking around the house. 

“I’m here, Sir Dwight,” she responded. She picked up a sword and began swinging at a dummy. 

“Getting some last-minute practice in?” Dwight asked, taking a seat on the steps. 

“Err, yes.” Gretta swung hard and decapitated the dog-shaped straw structure. She turned to Dwight and sheathed her sword. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

Dwight cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head. “No. I, uh, just wanted to stop by on my way home to see how you were doing.” 

“Oh. I am…” Gretta considered lying to Dwight and insisting that she was fine, but rejected the idea almost instantly. She needed someone to talk to. “Not well, Sir Dwight. It would seem that my mother has been released from her curse and has come here.” 

“Oh?” Dwight stared at her, surprise evident on his face. “And you’re not… happy about that?” 

Gretta sat down next to him. “That’s the thing, I’m not sure how I feel. I ought to be inside, chatting with her and Baldric around the table and filling her in on all of the events that she missed. I want to be bouncing off the walls with excitement because my mother is back and she is well, but… I think I’m scared. What if, what if she tries to take me away, like Auntie Ermie? Or what if she is only visiting and intends to travel the world after being a tree for so long? Or… or what if she doesn’t like me?” 

Dwight grasped her feverishly moving hands in his own and held them steady while he breathed deeply. Gretta took the bait unconsciously and began to mimic his pace. Her panic melted away and she leaned against him. They sat like that for a while, enjoying the cool evening air and thinking about what had to happen next. 

“I’ll be right behind you,” Dwight said, his eyes fixed on the stars. 

Gretta nodded, grateful. “Let’s do this.” 

The two rose and walked into the house. They found Baldric sitting on the couch and talking animatedly to a rather excitable young woman in the armchair. 

“Hello, Mother,” Gretta said. 

Britta walked over and wrapped Gretta in a strong embrace. “Happy birthday, my dear girl. I have missed you greatly.” 

Everything proved to be too much for the usually unflappable princess as she collapsed into her mother’s hug and began crying uncontrollably. “I… Missed… You… Too,” she choked between sobs. 

**End of Chapter. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of my beautiful readers may be aware, this is my second attempt at starting this chapter. I didn't care much for the first try, and I personally think this one cuts to the point a lot quicker and more succinctly. I would like to thank any readers I have that read the other chapter and enjoyed it anyway, and I am grateful that you have born with me for this switch. 
> 
> If you liked this story, please leave a kudos (or a comment if you are feeling particularly bold), so that I may know that I am not the only one enjoying this line of thinking. I hope you have an amazing day!


	3. Blackberry Cobbler

As it turned out, Queen Britta was a beast in the kitchen. Gretta had never eaten a better-prepared rabbit or tart or potato in her life, though if she were completely honest she’d mostly eaten rations growing up. But all of this food was seasoned and roasted to utter perfection, and soon the idea of her mother cooking in the kitchen not only warmed her heart but set her tastebuds buzzing. 

That was, until, Dwight insisted on baking his famous cobbler for the queen. 

“Cobbler?” Gretta said, face lighting up as if she had been given the  _ perfect  _ Christmas present. However, once she recalled the effects of the last cobbler she’d eaten, the princess’s eyes bored into her knight. 

Dwight grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy the berries from the market this time. No truthberries, I promise.” 

The queen’s attention piqued and the teenagers had to explain that the last time Dwight had made a cobbler, during an ill-conceived camping trip no less, the entire group had been dosed with truthberries and said some rather embarrassing things during the intermittent hours. 

Britta chuckled lightly, though Dwight and Gretta could tell that she was intentionally toning it down. 

“Well,” Dwight replied, clapping his hands together. “I’m just going to see what stuff you’ve already got in the kitchen, then I’ll run to the market.” 

Gretta nodded and the knight disappeared. 

“Tell me truly,” Britta replied, “how good is this cobbler.” 

“I can say with certainty that it is the most delicious food I have ever tasted.” Gretta glanced at the kitchen. “The cobbler shall not last a night, I can guarantee it.” 

Like a dog begging for treats, Chlodwig poked his head in the back door and stared his cousin down. “Cobbler?” 

“Hey, Chlodwig,” Dwight said, shuffling through the cabinets. “How are you doing? That new song coming along well?” 

Chlodwig clapped a hand on his back roughly. “Yes, Brother. I expect it shall be completed within the week!” 

“That’s great,” Dwight replied with a wince. 

“Chlodwig, why don’t you come in here and chat with me?” Britta called. 

“Yes, Auntie,” the young man responded and ran to sit on the floor by her legs. 

Dwight finished writing down his supply list and looked through the door at the scene. Gretta was splayed on the couch polishing her sword while Chlodwig sat comfortably by Britta, who was rebraiding her long brown hair. The knight smiled. It was an adorable, if an unconventional, family that he was glad he was acquainted with. His family was just him and Nana, so nothing like this would ever happen, and he was so glad it got to happen for Gretta. 

#

The cobbler was a hit, as Dwight expected. He sat contentedly in the armchair while Chlodwig, Baldric, and Gretta amused themselves by seeing who could tell the most outlandish lies. 

“Well I have hooves for feet!” Chlodwig announced. 

“My hair is blue,” Gretta said, stuffing another forkful into her mouth with a giggle. 

“And I have never eaten a bite of meat in my life,” Baldric continued with a chuckle. He thumped a hand on his knee and relaxed into the couch. 

Britta leaned over and whispered, “The cobbler was delicious, Dwight.” 

He smiled. “Thank you, Britta.” 

“Tell me, how did you get the crust to cook and brown evenly in the fireless oven?” 

“It wasn’t that hard. Modern stoves are designed to surround the food fairly evenly. The hard part is making sure the bottom doesn’t burn while you wait for the inside to cook thoroughly. Though, I do usually cook this on the fire, so this was a little different for me too.” 

“It tastes really good,” Gretta cut in. She had a blackberry juice mustache and her teeth were slightly purple. Dwight smiled and handed her a spare napkin. 

“Thank you.” 

#

Later that evening, Gretta was sitting on the balcony, basking under the stars and enjoying the feeling of a full stomach when her mother sat down next to her. Gretta shifted oddly and sat in a position where she wouldn’t have to look at Britta directly. 

“What are you doing, Gretta?” Britta asked. 

Gretta smiled and looked at the stars. They burned brightly tonight. “I’m just… enjoying the night. It has been a long time since I’ve been this content.” 

“Oh?” Britta prompted. 

Gretta hummed. “I have you back, which I never expected, even if the situation is a little… strange.” The princess glanced at her mother and watched her nod. “And Baldric is ecstatic. Chlodwig is happy to have a mother figure again, I think he misses his own mother. And the food tonight was delicious; you made a wonderful dinner and Sir Dwight’s cobbler was just as delicious as I remembered it. Tonight was… amazing.” 

“If I recall correctly, you didn’t eat much of my dinner because you knew that Dwight’s cobbler was sitting in the kitchen.” 

Gretta turned to Britta directly and began to fumble. “I mean… I well… It’s just…” 

Britta waved her embarrassment away and smiled. It was a mother’s job to fluster her child. 

“I’ve also noticed that you have a particular fondness for Dwight.”

Gretta froze and stared at Britta blankly. “Huh?”

“You,” the queen pointed at the princess, “Have feelings for your knight.”

“I do not. Sir Dwight is just…” Gretta petered off. In truth, she wasn’t quite sure what Dwight was to her. He used to just be her Champion, then he became her friend, but it had been quite some time now that just the sight of him walking through the door set her heart fluttering. He was… more than a friend. 

“He’s different,” Britta supplied, and Gretta nodded. 

The queen nodded and patted Gretta’s shoulder. “Work it out,” she advised, “Then work through it. Dwight is not your destiny, and I have to work on finding you a suitable match.” 

Ice burned through Gretta’s veins. “What?” 

Britta caught Gretta’s eyes. “Princesses do  _ not _ marry knights.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit freely that I know very little about baking and that science is not my strong suit, so if the conversation between Dwight and Britta seemed... off, then that's probably why.   
Thank you so much for reading. If you liked it then please leave a kudos so that I know that people are reading. I also encourage comments, though I know that those require a little more bravery.   
Have a good day!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of my DISA fanfic. I hope that you enjoyed it. If you did (and even if you didn't), please leave a kudos or comment so that I know other people are reading this. (It helps with motivation). 
> 
> Happy Reading!


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